


Mundanity

by laureltreedaphne



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laureltreedaphne/pseuds/laureltreedaphne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd thought that it would be better, somehow, being trapped in a house with Dom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mundanity

**Author's Note:**

> Migrating old fic from LiveJournal - this is from 2003.

i.  
Billy forgets to un-set the alarm clock the first day, and so he's awoken at 4:30 by some god-awful music that Dom snuck into the CD player when he wasn't looking. Dom wanders into his room within seconds. “We're fucking off, remember Bill?” he asks, glaring with eyes that haven't fully opened. “What'd you set the alarm for?” Billy shrugs, shifting his feet beneath the duvet. 

“Sorry,” he says, even though he isn't. “Go back to sleep.” Dom throws back the duvet and crawls into the bed, pressing cold feet against Billy's calves. 

“I'm up now. What's the point?” 

ii.  
Dom walks from the kitchen to the living room, clutching a bowl of instant noodles in one hand, a fork in the other, and a packet of processed powdered cheese between his teeth. He sits down on the couch next to Billy, balancing the bowl on his lap. “You didn't add enough water to the noodles,” says Billy, not bothering to look away from the TV. “It won't mix properly.” Dom pours the cheese in anyway and watches it congeal and stick to the macaroni, then refuses to give Billy the satisfaction of grimacing while he chokes it all down. 

iii.  
Billy doesn't get really restless until the fifth day, when it starts to rain and they're stuck inside with nothing to do but watch bad TV and snipe at each other. He suggests surfing, but the crackling of lightening and rolls of thunder warn against it. When the power goes out, they don't even move, choosing instead to stare at the black screen of the TV and listen to the rain spattering on the roof. He'd thought that it would be better, somehow, being trapped in a house with Dom. Or, if not better, then at least not so boring. 

iv.  
“God, it's so unfair,” says Elijah through the phone receiver that's clammy against Billy's cheek. “The two of you, with a whole house to yourselves and all that time off. I bet you're having a blast.”

“Yeah, it's great,” says Billy, staring at Dom who's fallen asleep on the couch and spilled his unfinished tea all over the rug. 

When Elijah finally ends the call thirty minutes later, Dom still hasn't woken up and the tea is nothing but a dried brown stain. Billy contemplates throwing the phone at him, but ends up placing it back in the charger instead. 

v.  
Dom's mouth on Billy's cock is not boring, and neither is Dom's tongue running along the crease of his thigh or Dom's fingernails pressing through the rough denim at the back of his leg. Billy is not bored as he clenches his fingers around the couch cushion, grits his teeth, throws his head back, and bites down a moan. The sky outside is gray and the air is wet as Billy arches his hips and Dom lets his eyes fall closed. 

When Billy comes, he realizes that this is the most noise that either of them has made all week.

vi.  
Billy sorts the laundry into piles because Dom never remembers to: whites and colors, handwash and dry clean only. They have a system that works; Dom puts each load into the machine while Billy measures out the detergent and pours it in, Dom moves the clothes from the washer to the dryer while Billy dispenses fabric softener and carefully sets the timer. Dom jokes about the amount of clothing they've managed to go through in one week, Billy laughs in all the appropriate places, and they both jump guiltily when the buzzer from the washing machine echoes through the room. 

vii.  
When they fuck it's rough and fast and angry, and not at all like Dom thought fucking Billy would be. Billy snarls and curses and tears at his hair, and Dom slams into him so hard that he can almost feel the friction burn from the carpet against his own back when Billy writhes and winces and yells. Beside them, the movie they've forgotten to watch fades out on two girls embracing while cheesy, hopeful music plays in the background. 

When Dom comes, it's partly because he wants to, and partly because he can't think of anything better to do. 

viii.  
By the eleventh day, they have a routine. Billy takes his shower at 8:05, Dom takes his at 10, then walks downstairs to find tea and breakfast waiting for him and Billy gone. Sometimes he surfs, sometimes he doesn't, it depends on the weather and on if he feels like moving his arse off the couch. Billy comes back at seven and Dom cooks dinner, which they eat with a bottle of wine and conversation that doesn't mention anything remotely personal. They go to bed without saying goodnight, except for on the days when they don't sleep at all. 

ix.  
Orlando offers to drive them to the set once Peter calls them back in, and in the back-seat of the car they joke and laugh and tease until Orlando shakes his head and says, “You guys. Honestly, you're like an old married couple.” He smiles brightly at them in the rearview mirror, not paying any attention to the hot sun glinting off of the cars in front of him. “Don't you ever get tired of each other?” 

Billy smirks and no one pays attention to Dom's tight frown when Billy says, “Would anyone believe us if we said we did?”

x.  
Dom packs for Billy because if he doesn't, Billy forgets things like sunglasses and socks and toothpaste. Billy calls up from the hallway, “You about ready to go?”, and Dom throws the last of his own things into a suitcase and heads downstairs. They look over the house one last time to make sure they haven't left anything behind. Neither says they're going to miss it. 

Outside, Dom presses the key into the soft dirt of the flower pot on the front porch and doesn't give the house a second glance as he walks away under the cloudless gray sky.


End file.
